A poem about the tin canoes my brothers made. in those days 1950s there were no Xboxes,T.V. Most people made their own entertainment.
One morning after breakfast,
Two young fellows headed to the swimming hole,
Where they finished their corrugated tin canoes,
Corrugated iron bent to form,
Framed in two by two timber,
With four by two at the bow and stern
Nailed together with lead headed nails,
All holes blocked with resin,
Launching their crafts,
They set off for an adventure.
Down under the willows they traveled,
Gliding under the bridge ,
Passing the neighbours place,
Near the hen house,
Ducks were swimming in the water,
The boys decided to catch one,
Ted paddled over to the bank,
Slipping into the water,
He dived, swimming under a duck,
He caught it by its legs,
While the duck loudedly quacked,
Ted dragged it to the bank,
Aurthur paddled over,
Togerther the boys planned what to do,
Having proved that it could be done,
They let the duck go,
Being a tame duck it swam back home.
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